Blue Eyes, Blue Skies
by Sub-Atomic Grape
Summary: On Mars and at dawn, there are fleeting moments where the sky is blue. When she sees Conner's eyes, M'gann is reminded of those moments. When Conner sees M'gann he isn't sure what he's reminded of, outside of being something other then a weapon. A brief look at their relationship through a year, and a whole lot of sunrises.


**((Author's note: M'gann's songs are inspired by a scene with J'onn from the Justice League episode "Comfort and Joy." The fic itself was inspired by a collection of Tumblr posts. I own nothing, and hope that you enjoy reading!))**

Marie Logan's eyes...Megan's eyes are a lovely shade of blue. Light, almost slate colored, but still a color that jumps out at her from the TV screen. A startling difference to her own red eyes as well, and try as she might, M'gann can't replicate the color. She attempts it once or twice, but can't chase that red pigment completely out of her eyes. And ultimately, she settles for an orange-brown instead. It's an easier color to hold onto, and frees up her concentration when it comes to adjusting the rest of her shape.

It's still strange, seeing someone so light colored on TV being smiled at by others. But it also makes her sit up a little straighter, not curl in on herself and hug her knees so much. She thinks that maybe, if she keeps this episode in mind, she'll sleep easier tonight. No waking up before dawn and feeling too restless and uneasy to go back to sleep.

Although, as she hears a low psychic hum start to run through the caverns, and thrum just around edge of her family's doorway, M'gann is reminded there are some upsides. The hymn from the sorcerer priests greeting the dawn spurs her onward, out the door on a pair of quiet, padded human-esque feet.

There's not a lot of other Martians awake and about at this time of day; the few that are don't move through the side streets she runs down, concerned with preparing for the coming day and sticking to the main avenues. She still slips into camouflage and keeps her thoughts quiet as she moves down the streets, little more then a faint distortion over the rock; not worth paying attention to, or noticing as she makes her way towards the surface. The air gets thinner as she picks her way through the tunnels, the first sign that she's getting closer and closer to the surface. It's only when she sees the just lightening sky that M'gann drops her invisibility, still glancing around to make sure she's alone. All she sees are sand dunes and a few wisps of dark cloud overhead, which convinces her legs to stretch a little and let her move from the cavern opening and out onto one of those hills.

The surface of Mars is cold and dry, in a way that bites at the skin and chaps her freshly sculpted lips. The lack of sunlight only makes the temperature plummet deeper then normal. M'gann's response is to lengthen the trim of her clothing so she can fully cover her arms, and wrap herself in a warm cloak as she sits down on the ridge. With no one watching, she feels bold enough to add a tint of blue to it, close to what she's seen in Megan's eyes. Her clothing responds easily enough, keeping her warm as M'gann keeps both her eyes trained on the horizon.

It's just small shift of light at first, taking some of the black out of the sky and shifting it to a warmer color. Deep in the rocks, and far from her lonely spot of hill, M'gann can pick out the hymn swell as the sky goes lighter, and the bright spots from the stars and moons fade out. What they get in place of those little white dots takes her breath away as she watches the sun break the horizon.

Blue tinges the sky for a few precious minutes, a richer color then what she's seen on television. There's the briefest moment where she can imagine herself on Earth, under that blue sky. She shifts her skin a little more, letting it darken into something warm and lively, that would be at home underneath all that blue. Her clothing deepens into something richer and a near match for the sky, and she wraps it around her as she hugs her own arms, still watching.

Then the sun climbs higher, and the blue is leeched out of the sky as the dusty colors settle back over the planet. M'gann feels her form twist back into shape as well, and stands on thin, shaking legs to glance up at those last traces of blue through red eyes. As the hymn quiets and the sun continues to climb, M'gann turns, hunched in on herself, and hobbles back underground.

-o-o-o-

He knows what the sun is. He's never _seen_ the sun, but he still has a very clear idea of what it is. What it should look like in the sky, the temperature the surface is and heat loss between it and the miles and miles of empty space and Earth's atmosphere, as well as roughly how it should feel, all thanks to the information fed into his head by the genomorphs. Privately, Superboy has let the notion settle in his head that it probably feels something like his solar suit; light on the body but with a very clear sense of insulating warmth.

And since he still has that sensation thanks to the fabric hugging his body, Superboy decides that seeing the sun isn't all that pressing. Not since the moon is already hanging large in the sky. And he can pick out a red and blue clad form descending down in front of it, obscuring formations that his head automatically fills out as the Sea of Tranquility and Serenity, before touching down on the ground.

The satisfaction he feels when meeting Superman face to face lasts all of half a minute. Perhaps less; that fight and having a building drop on him apparently takes the edge off of some of his thoughts, since he could have easily measured the time back inside Cadmus down to a second.

There's also the fact that there's a lot _more_ outside of the lower levels, and his pod. The sky above is an inky blue color (caused by a combination of light and particles in the air, his head helpfully provides before doling out the exact numbers and percentages) and his lungs work on pushing out the last bits of dust coating his throat so he can properly take in the difference of the air.

There are members of the League…Earth's heroes all around him, filling up the sky and the horizon line from the crater they've torn into the ground. But there is no connection with any of them. Maybe that should be depressing…Instead, he lets it spark something in him and pushes anything that isn't fierceness straight out of his head.

Looking at the moon, the sky, or the sun all sounds overrated anyway. Same as Superman. He has his own place in this world to carve out, now.

-o-o-o-

If she's honest with herself, Superboy's eyes aren't the first things she notices. It's actually a toss up between his shirt, and that harsh set to his expression; there's something oddly sad about how he looks, how he stands apart. It makes M'gann want to do something, as a way of reaching out and seeing if she can change that feeling of isolation she gets from him. She's more then a little proud on how much she's progressed in shifting her clothing, that she can send out a quick flicker of thought to tweak the color of her shirt to match his.

When he smiles, it causes an amazing change to his face. Makes his eyes lose some of that harshness and warm up a little. That's when she really notices the color of them.

Blue. Bright blue, more pronounced then Megan's, or even her boyfriend's. She didn't know that color could be found naturally, outside of very rare windows of time while looking up at the sky.

It takes time for her to get used to that, and effort not to stare. Several weeks of hard work, actually. The fact that they're also sharing a mountain makes it difficult to direct her attention towards meditation and practice, instead stealing glances and wondering how its possible to have eyes with such a bright, vivid color. But eventually, she manages some level of control, distracting herself with preparing the cave for the rest of the team and wondering what sort of cookies they might enjoy.

Her new room is already starting to feel like a home; the bare rock walls might help with that, but she also gets to decorate it with a few of her own touches. A poster of Earth as seen from the moon, its oceans amazingly colorful even so far out in space, a purple rug with cheerful star patterns printed on it, and a blanket spread across the bed picked out in a lighter shade of blue. While reds might remind her of home, there is something soothing about the color of Earth's sky and oceans, and she loves mixing it into her own decorations and wardrobe.

When she lets herself fall onto the mattress this time, pulling her legs up so she can sink into the bed and be surrounded by plush blue covers, M'gann keeps a firm grip on the latest addition to her Earth home. She cradles the makeup compact close to her chest; it's her own personal reward that she picked out from a catalogue, after successfully completing her first mission with the team. The plastic covering is a cheery pink color that she tries to slip onto her lips as she opens it, and shyly glances at the mirror inside.

A green face looks back at her, with a slightly nervous slant to her eyes and mouth, but M'gann tries to put on a smile as she watches herself. The only way to really learn or get better at being comfortable in different skins is through practice, she reminds herself.

She's seen several times that people can have blue eyes; she should be able to manage the same, with some practice. M'gann shuts her eyes, concentrating on the little nuances and adjustments she needs to make. She thinks of the examples she's seen again; Megan Wheeler, her boyfriend Conner-

Superboy.

Her eyes open on their own, and she catches a glimpse of some glimmer of blue in her eyes, almost an echo for that rich color she's seen at sunrise…And with Superboy. They quickly slip back to red, though, and M'gann snaps the compact shut before she can see her skin follow the shift as well. The plastic squeaks a little under her now pale fingers, and she has to remind them to relax before she accidentally breaks the little container. Nervously, she sets it aside and decides that her practice might come better under an open sky.

-o-o-o-

Earth orbits the sun at close to 150 million kilometers away, with a full orbit around the sun taking a little over 365 days on average. The rotational speed measured from the equator is 1,679 kilometers an hour, with a full rotation needing 24 hours…

…The information all filters through his head easy. It only takes a little more thought and effort to bring up the other planets as well.

It's mostly by accident that he finds out that Cadmus has access to satellite imagery of Mars. The information is stored in the back of his head, but once his thoughts veer towards the fourth planet, the information springs up.

It figures that he has to be looking at Miss Martian as he limps back to the nearest Zeta tube in order to get that information, though. It seems like all of today has been a lesson in proving how the opposite sex is key to him getting information through his head.

…A few hours ago, that would have pissed him off enough to pitch one of the team's bikes over several state lines. Right now, though, everything feels too sore for him to feel anything other then slightly sullen. And more then slightly contemplative.

"You're sure you're okay?" Her voice is shaky, even though she hasn't been doing any fighting. And while the rest of the team is well ahead of them, following Robin (who leads them through four or five dark alleys, and judging by the noises ahead of them, stops two or three muggings along the way.) but she stays behind, and hovers close to him.

"Fine." He replies again, while his head informs him that the distance between Earth and Mars is close to 225 million kilometers, while the red planet is roughly half a size smaller. He's also given several clear, orange and brown tinted mental images of what the surface looks like, thanks to a LexCorp funded satellite orbiting the planet. (It seems purely out of spite, that his information on Krypton is almost non-existent. Whatever knowledge Cadmus has doesn't extend to that planet.)

M'gann herself still seems intent on having a small orbit around him; her feet haven't once touched the ground, no matter how closed in the path gets. And she hasn't bumped into him, although he keeps noticing her hand hovering in that space between them.

"Sorry, I don't mean to bother you." She offers in a hushed voice when she notices him watching her. "You just…Didn't look so good when we found you in the gym. I was worried."

"You don't-" have to be worried, he wants to say. He's a weapon, designed to fight. He doesn't really get _why_ she should feel concerned about him either. Besides, getting smashed through a few walls doesn't slow Superman down, so why should it be different for him?

His legs answer that by finding an uneven break in the concrete underfoot, and send him plummeting forward as his feet catch on the lip of the sidewalk-

He feels a hand on his arm first, the touch stinging at where his skin is still raw. Seconds later, gravity stops pulling on him and he finds himself hovering. M'gann is a lot closer to him, closing the gap and watching him carefully as she floats him above the ground. She's still fast; as fast as she was in Santa Prisca with pulling him through that tunnel. And while a part of him feels a flare of annoyance, the rest of him is mostly relieved that she can react quickly. And is willing to help him.

"Okay?" She checks on him again. The Designated Weapon section of his thoughts feels a lot quieter, as he realizes that there's someone concerned about him…And that it's not such a bad thing, after all. Maybe it's not Superman noticing him, but it's better then no one at all.

"…Yeah. Thanks." He rolls his shoulders and rebalances on his feet, which tells her to let go of him, at least with her telekinesis. That hand stays on his arm, though. And he doesn't feel any real need to pull away from it.

-o-o-o-

There's other things that she starts to notice, past those blue eyes with a harsh, almost brittle edge to them. How much Superman's approval (and not getting it) affects him, how violent his response is to telepathy…Plus the harsh bite that reaction leaves in her mind. She works on committing all of that to memory, since it seems to help with easing him out of those sullen moods and towards something that isn't all sharp edges on his surface thoughts (which M'gann swears she doesn't eavesdrop on; just overhears) and growling.

But his eyes remain striking to her. She works on her ability to mimic, eventually picking up and gaining the focus for blue eyes, but there's something about his that remain special. She can't quite force herself, or get the focus, to copy the exact color although she comes close a few times. There's also moments where she wonders about switching over to Megan's type of blue eyes, instead of her brown. She's getting more talented at the color, and a part of her thinks that they would compliment Superboy's eyes better then her dull brown ones. (Which, M'gann reminds herself, are still a step up from red. Especially when on Caucasian skin.)

…Not that she can ever figure out a way to ask Superboy what he thinks of the idea. Another thing she's noticed about his eyes are that they tend to make her thoughts and words trip up if she watches them for too long.

They still manage to catch her attention the same time they make her tongue catch on itself, and look bright even when he has milk and flour stuck in his hair, and tomato with a few gobs of egg white dripping off his chin. And there's something nice, in a strange crush-and-almost-hurts way, when it comes to looking at them.

When she finds herself on the sand dunes of Bialya, and sees Superboy again, his eyes don't have that same bright look. Half fogged over, and the only light to them is a feral one. She doesn't really notice that much at first…Doesn't even remember his _name_ at first, and the memory of how they normally look only comes floating back to her much, much later.

Once she finds herself falling towards the ground and getting caught by his hands, to be precise. His eyes have lost that wild edge by then, and gone back to that bright color…With a surprising amount of warmth to them when she watches him. And when he actually meets her eyes, she swears there is something gentle to them as well.

Maybe its just that he isn't covered in cooking supplies when they trade glances, this time. But when she's surrounded by sand and a low temperature that's almost like home, feeling his hands under her back and chin and looking into his eyes is more then just 'nice.' Looking at them, she feels like she's looking back up at Earth's sky at midday. Or back on Mars at sunrise.

-o-o-o-

The ship is surrounded by clouds right now; no trace of the desert or oceans below them as the team flies back to the base. It isn't the same as flying with M'gann, Conner can already tell that; no wind running through his hair, and the air feels still against all that exposed skin on his arms and chest. (Artemis had glanced over him once they stepped inside, and remarked 'no wonder she went back.' He finds that he isn't really interested in pursuing whatever she meant by that.)

M'gann isn't looking at the windows, or at him; the first thing she did when they got back to the ship was help Aqualad. Followed by collapsing into the control chair and giving her ship a soft nudge into activity. Now that the bio-ship is climbing up through the sky, she doesn't do much other then trace her hands over the control orbs. Her eyes don't even flutter open to check in on everyone else, and the mind link is quiet as she focuses on flying the ship.

It leaves his mind feeling surprisingly quiet…Not _empty, _which he thanks everything for, but not as busy as before. That silence leaves him without a lot to do…And he finds himself looking out the windows of the ship. Watching the sky slowly go from dark to light as a small glimmer of sunlight starts to stretch out above the clouds.

Just a day and a few hours ago, the only thing that meant to him was that the air got hotter, and that he could feel a harsh light on his skin. He hadn't noticed what it looked like when the sun was rising. He hadn't noticed anything other then whatever was in the way, and how to get rid of it.

…He hadn't had anything in his mind other then being a weapon.

Superboy rests a hand on the sphere rolled up next to him, and the machine gives a soft whirr in response. The device is a lot more quiet now, more still; it feels like everyone is taking time to breathe, as the sun keeps climbing up and into the sky.

The clouds have gone from pale white and blue to a soft yellow and pink now. It's not the same as Mars; clearer skies, different air quality…He knew that objectively, before. But now, there's memories teasing the edges of his thoughts that he _knows_ aren't his. That image of a gaunt, genomorph-like being is already faint and washed out in his mind; the memories of Mar's sky and how it looks during a sunrise are almost completely shrouded, to the point that he can just pick out blurry images of red soil and blue tinged sky.

Glancing back at M'gann, he has to wonder if she knows that she left a few fragments behind, when she tore down that block in his mind. But the way the images are ghostly, almost fragmented…Somehow, it puts him in mind of something that has accidentally been dropped and forgotten about.

Not that Superboy finds himself all that irritated by it. To be honest, it's not like thoughts about M'gann have been scarce in his mind. Even before Bialya, before that event in the kitchen with several eggs and a carton of milk and flour, she's been on his mind.

At first, that terrified him; it felt like he was getting his purpose and design stripped away. But now…Now, looking at her and thinking about her sunrises, it doesn't feel as bad. Or like he's defective because he thinks about things other then what Superman would do, or the best way to eliminate an obstacle. Maybe it's not what a weapon would think about…But the appeal of being a living weapon is fading fast in his head.

-o-o-o-

Dawn in Qurac is damp and misty. The air has a chill in it that reminds her of Mars, from the dew settles over the grass that carpets most of the Logan Animal Sanctuary. It also makes the air mist up, clouding the sunrise and gives the sky a quality that's a little closer to her home planet.

M'gann eagerly accepts Marie Logan's offer for a ride in the pickup. The fence posts in the bed of the truck clatter as the car shifts forward and rumbles along a dirt path towards the broken fences. The headlamps are on to offer a little more visibility through the pale mist that hugs the ground and drifts into the sky.

She finds herself torn between watching Marie, and watching the sunrise. She's never really seen it come up on the other side of the world…But that doesn't take away from the fact that Marie Logan is right **there** next to her, and she might go a little faint headed from how exciting it all is. Marie's eyes are more tired then what she's seen on TV, and M'gann gets the impression that the older woman isn't quite used to pulling all nighters, the same way the team is. Still, she's amazed at that blue color to them; that familiar but still striking pale grey tint, like the outer edge of those sunrises on Mars where the color meets the dust and clouds…But it doesn't change how it's different from the usual eye colors on Mars.

She almost wants to shift her eyes to match that color…But she feels shy enough, just having a similar bone structure in her face and redness in her hair. Enough that she half wants to slip back into camouflage. Marie says nothing, more focused on steering the car towards the repair site and keeping her eyes on the road.

There's a faint hum in the air, just audible over the growl of the engine and grind of tires moving through dust and clumps of grass. There's a slight static taste to it, tickling the edges of her ears…M'gann has to tilt and move her head a few times before she realizes it's coming from the speakers set in the dashboard. One of those car radios, which she's always heard on television, but never actually seen. What she hears, M'gann isn't certain; some very faintly dialed down music with a barely distinguishable beat, but still there. A song at sunrise.

Even on Earth and with an off-color dawn, she can get a few flashbacks of Mars.

-o-o-o-

The information on Mars stays rooted in his head; distance from the sun, rotational speed, atmospheric conditions as measured by the drones and rovers sent to the planet before the identity of J'onn J'onzz and the fact that there was life on Mars became widely known. (Which, the mental databank tells him, was followed by a hesitant deactivating of the machines, to keep any diplomatic relations from going sour before there was ever a chance of them starting.) He finds himself going over it as the school days stretch out in a long, November and pre-winter break haze. Some of the lessons might have been interesting, if he didn't already know most of the material. M'gann seems fascinated by the subjects, however…And when he isn't thinking about red planets and the numbers behind them, Conner finds himself watching her, just out of the corner of his eye.

Through their link (which he's become comfortable with more quickly then he ever expected) Conner thinks he can pick out a nervous flutter to M'gann's thoughts, which is a mirror for how her heart beats faster then normal. Not fear, but excitement mixed with a little nervousness…And he doesn't want to increase either of those by looking directly at her or drawing too much attention towards her. Superboy stubbornly keeps his head turned back towards the blank pieces of paper in front of him. He used to not be able to do discreet all that well, but finds himself beginning to get a better talent for it. And to keep the illusion of focusing on class going, he starts to scrawl a few things onto his own notes; weather patterns, orbiting paths for the planets, even what the soil is made of on Mars. And he keeps his focus on that.

It seems like Mars is never far from his thoughts, as the weeks go by. But all those pieces of orbital information helps give him a reference point on what M'gann meant when she said that it was pretty cold where she came from. With the late autumn heat still clinging to parts of the coast, it's hard for him to imagine what that could be like. Even inside the cave, there's still plenty of warmth hanging heavy in the air and clinging to his skin.

During movie nights, M'gann is warm against him as well. They're not kissing at the moment, instead staying curled up together on the couch, side by side. M'gann keeps one eye on the television in front of them, the other on him. Conner is just faintly aware of the people talking on screen, instead staying more focused on feeling his fingers curling against hers and how close together they are. At least now he has a better idea of what those feelings he experiences are…And what he's supposed to do with them.

"Comfortable?" He still finds himself asking. M'gann's answer is a contented hum, both out of her lips and brushing up lightly against his mind as she rests her head on his shoulder. She looks at him fully in the eyes, and he distantly notices that the credits are rolling on the screen. Her fingers trace down his back, warm through his shirt. Warm the same way their cheeks are when they brush together.

It's still hard to imagine Mars as being cold. Even with all the data in his head, which somehow doesn't feel as vital or pressing as it used to. Definitely not as important as who is curled against him, or that he can feel her breath fluttering against his skin. She's there, alive and with him, and he feels like he's found someplace to be, curled up next to her…The information on planets doesn't matter much, next to that.

-o-o-o-

In her dreams, she remembers watching more sunrises on Mars; how she memorizes routes that take her through unmonitored neighborhoods and out onto flat stretches and dunes where there's no outposts. How it gives her time and room to breath, though she can still hear the hymns echoing across the empty space and soaking into her skin and thoughts. Those songs are almost as captivating as watching the sky shift colors.

When M'gann wakes up, something in that dream stays fixed in her head. And keeps her eyes from drifting closed, even though the desk clock tells her in glowing green numbers that it's almost five in the morning. She gets the feeling that the sun might be up soon…And compulsion seizes her and helps M'gann float out of bed and shift her clothing from pajamas and into black.

At ten to five in the morning, Mount Justice is unnervingly silent. No voices from any of the rooms, no footsteps on the floors…The quiet has a way of digging into her head if she listens to it for too long, making her shiver and her feet want to touch down on the ground and rustle along it, just to break the silence. There is also a nervous hum that keeps trying to build up in her throat, pulsing and trembling nervously in time to her heart. Its all she can do to keep the sound from leaving her, swallowing every time it tries to take root. Even though a part of her wants to just let it go, and have something to break the quiet…

…But that would defeat part of the purpose of getting up so early. She doesn't want to wake anyone else, and so M'gann keeps her throat still, and her feet off the floor as she floats towards the back door of the base.

Once she steps outside, some of that tenseness vanishes; she can hear the ocean without all that rock around her, and the steady rush of the waves helps her steady her breath. That tickle is still there in her throat though, pushing, waiting for a chance to slip out. She's about ready to let it go as well; nothing has gone wrong so far, and no one has been disturbed.

But to make sure, she stretches her thoughts out, listening. All that drifts back to her are quiet, muted thoughts, muffled and wrapped up in layers of sleep. No one awake or aware in the mountain, other then Red Tornado…And she gets the feeling he won't remark on this. That gives M'gann the confidence to turn eastward, and push any worries out of her head.

It's a near reversal for how things are on Mars. The sky begins tinted pink and red as the sun breaks the horizon, and when those first rays of light lick the edges of the clouds they go bright yellow and orange…Almost like fire, but without that suffocating, numbing feel to them. The air has a slight chill to it, though not as harsh as it was a few months ago; not enough to kill the buds of green grass pushing up through the ground, or cause any snow to fall. This is her first spring on Earth, and from what little M'gann has experienced, she's already deciding it might be her favorite season.

M'gann inhales, letting her ribcage expand and relax. Her bones lose some of their rigidness, flowing in a form closer to her birth shape, and letting her get those deep lungfuls of air for what comes next. The words from those dawn hymns are still fresh in her mind, and ready to get translated from purely mental space out into the air. Lifting her head up, towards the slowly brightening sky, M'gann lets the breath ease out of her throat in a long, unbroken note.

M'gann doesn't bother keeping her feet to the ground, as she sings her heart out to the sky. Words flowing together, giving thanks for another day, and a prayer for it to be a prosperous one. She'd never sung any of them before reaching Earth…Or at least, she'd never been able to sing them properly. Not with volume and heart, like how she'd heard other people on Mars. But now there's no one to worry about offending…Or about overhearing her. She throws her arms out, and lets that sound carry up into the sky, now able to finally let it ring loud and passionate out of her throat and lungs.

-o-o-o-

Something is tugging at his senses. A light, but insistent touch that would have made his skin twitch if it was purely physical. As it is, it gets him to twitch awake with a grunt, and his eyes flicker open. A second later, and he can pick out a faint hum in his ears that is different from the usual background noises. Not like hearing someone's breath while they're sleeping, or the occasional groan as something in the cave shifts under the weight of the mountain.

Conner stares at the ceiling, trying to focus on that sound seeping through the rock. Whatever it is, it does an amazing job of burrowing into his sleep and pulling him out of his dreams. And whatever he's hearing is haunting, almost melancholy…And far removed from anything he's heard before. 'Alien' is the best way to describe it.

But, it also doesn't felt threatening. Just…Different.

But whatever it is, he also can't identify it through that much rock and steel; even super hearing has its limits. Since his body doesn't feel like going back to sleep any time soon, Conner eases himself up from that half standing, half leaning back position in the corner he's picked out as his sleeping spot, still listening. A moment of groping around, and his fingers find a shirt and pants to pull on as he eases the door open, (not wrenching it open and damaged the runners, like he used to do) and moves out into the hallways. As an after thought, he also grabs a pair of boots, jamming his feet and jean bottoms into them as he stands in the hallway and listens.

One door out of the way, and it's easier to figure out where the noise is coming from; somewhere on the eastern side of the base…And judging from how it's still slightly muffled, probably from outside on the slope of the mountain. Conner picks his way through the base, still listening. Whatever he's hearing has also settled into a rhythm, the sound rising and falling…Like music he's heard some of team listening to.

It _is_ like a song. Not with any words he can hear, and not in a language he can recognize, but still a lot like one. Conner frowns as he keeps moving, heading towards the back door of the cave…And noticing that it has been left ajar. The sound is flowing through the space between the door and the frame, now in a soft, easy to distinguish feminine voice-

M'gann's voice, he realizes with a jolt, as his fingers hook into the door and ease that aside, too. Outside, the sky is slowly shifting to a light pink tint, the wind pushing at the few clouds in the sky and lifting up the cloak of the person in front of him. M'gann's eyes are shut, her mouth slightly parted as that sound keeps spilling out of her lips. Rising and falling, a long string of flowing syllables humming through the air in a way that is hypnotic.

He knows what the sound is, and where it's coming from now; M'gann's singing. He hadn't even known that his girlfriend has an interest in music, or given much thought to what songs from her own planet are like. By all reason, he could turn around and go back to sleep, now that he's solved that mystery.

Instead, he stands off to the side and listens. He keeps everything quiet; his breathing, even his own thoughts as he watches M'gann and lets those notes soak in through his skin and thrum in his ears. When the last note leaves her, he clears his throat a little and puts on a smile.

"M'gann," He's already deciding between whether he should tell her 'good morning' or comment on her voice-

Neither of those get out of his throat when she flinches, darting away from him and spinning around in the air to stare wide eyed.

"C-Conner? What are you doing up?"

"Listening to you," he might not be as awake and aware as he thought, given how that's the first thing out of his mouth. M'gann colors up at his words, and ducks her head as her toes slowly touch back down on the ground. She looks at him just out of the corner of her eyes, suddenly pulled out of that passionate spot she was in and back to being shy and self conscious.

He could give himself a kick for causing her to shift like that. But first, he tries to pick out some words that make her blush a little less, and might convince her to look straight at him. "It sounded nice."

"_Really?"_ Her voice is a tiny whisper in his head, and he can nearly feel her shyness fluttering around in his own chest. He still gives a nod, and tries to keep his own thoughts steady.

"_Yeah,"_ he walks to where she's mostly standing on the ground now. _"I don't know a lot of the language, but it sounds nice when you sing it."_

Conner isn't fully sure what all he should do with his hands; Cadmus had never thought details like those were important. But M'gann doesn't appear to be bothered when he rests one hand on her waist, and wraps the other around her wrist. He keeps his fingers relaxed, while he goes over what he knows of the Martian language again; that at least is more substantial then his knowledge about hugging.

-o-o-o-

She wants to melt away into the scenery, drawing her camouflage over herself. But Conner's eyes are on her…Bright blue, and for a change they don't remind her of the sky in a comfortable way. More like she's just let him seen something obscene. And she still can't fade away while they're on her, still watching.

His hand also stays wrapped around her wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze and coaxing her feet to fully touch the ground by inches. He isn't glaring at her, at least. And going by his thoughts, which are warm and surprisingly soft, he really does like listening to her.

They end up sitting on the grass, sides pressed together. The dawn air is still a little chilly, so she coaxes a little more length into her cape and wraps it around them both. Conner doesn't appear to mind, despite his usual rule on 'no capes.'

"I haven't really sung any dawn hymns, before." She admits, eyes on the horizon as the sky turns richer and brighter. "The words feel nice, though. And I don't hear them on Earth, so…"

She trails off before that feeling of homesickness (and regret and shame over even _having_ homesickness) can sink in, since in the corner of her eyes, she catches him mulling over something. His eyebrows are almost bunched together with how he's concentrating, and she sends a tentative, curious thought over to him. He doesn't shrink away from it, and the contact seems to help make up his mind.

"I was thinking…You could always tell me." His hand covers hers, and he looks straight into her eyes. "If you want to hear that song as well as sing it. I'm stubborn enough that I can probably learn some of it, anyway."

He wasn't wrong on that, M'gann reflects as she curls up in her cloak, and rests her head on Conner's chest. She murmurs the words again, slower this time so he can pick out all the syllables and how the words flow together. He listens to her repeat it, and as she trails off, he picks up the song.

Conner's voice is more rough and raspy then hers, and he trips over some of the difficult vowels. The rhythm is a little off, the same as the notes…But M'gann finds that she can't care about any of that. Not compared to how his fingers feel, as they move up her side and trace small, gentle circles on her shoulders, his touch more steady then his voice. And feeling his breath brushing against her ear, as his words sink down into her skin along with his touch…Any little stumbles he makes don't matter, compared to that.

"Conner," she whispers, quiet enough to not interrupt his song. "You're doing beautifully."

And he doesn't break off from singing, just meets her eyes for a moment with a soft smile as his arms pull her close. She can hear the air moving through his lungs; his ribs aren't designed exactly right for the proper breath, but that doesn't change how she loves feeling him exhale as their sides stay pressed together.

It's only when he finishes that he leans in to kiss her on the forehead, letting go of her wrist and brushing her bangs aside. He doesn't go with words when he continues, but instead hums the same song. His rhythm is getting better, when he doesn't have to worry about all the strange syllables from her native tongue.

"Wonderful," Her voice comes out in a sleepy murmur. When she cracks her eyes open, she can see him hovering just over her, and gets the feeling that she might have nodded off a little with her head against his chest. As her awareness seeps back in, M'gann realizes that he's eased himself up, and she's now cradled fully against his shoulder.

He also pauses when he hears her. "Still getting used to some of the words." Conner keeps his voice low as well. "There's a lot of syllables and accents to work through." It's not quite an apology, but-

"Don't be silly." She chides him lightly, knowing that it might not quite be a very successful admonition since her lips are half against his throat. "You sound like you were made for this." Not like her, she almost says-

"I was made to be a weapon." And she thinks that he must be able to read those unspoken words in her voice and her expression anyway. That, or she forgot to quiet the link between them. His fingers trace down her face and pause under her chin, lifting her head up so their eyes meet. "Singing isn't something I was built for. M'gann, what makes you worse at this, compared to me?"

-o-o-o-

She doesn't answer his question right away, and he can already see caution creeping back into her expression. It fills her eyes up before she speaks, and makes her voice come out low and a little choked.

"Because I've already been told that I'm not meant for it." M'gann breaks the eye contact, and whispers into his shoulder. Superboy can feel her body tense up against his. In response, he traces a hand down her back, and slowly pulls his other arm around her shoulders to keep her close.

_"You can tell me,"_ He switches over to their link. Sometimes, hearing that echo in his head makes him pause. But most of the time, he finds himself preferring it. There's a moment where he can feel her hesitate, before she slowly eases her mind open to his.

He can see, suddenly, the bright red rocks surrounding him, taking the place of the sky. And he can _hear_ something winding through the rock passages. For a moment he thinks '_M'gann'_ before realizing it doesn't quite sound the same; a different octave…And somehow it has a more ringing, confident clarity then he's heard from her.

There's a flash of words running through his mind; 'not worthy' and 'no capacity' before a solid line of dialogue slams into his head. He can see something that looks vaguely like a class room, carved out of rock while words are pressed into his mind.

'_Those of you with the talent for it, please consider reporting to song instructors. Voice work and hymns are an important part of our culture, and those who can appreciate it should learn to preserve it, for others.' _It cuts into him that he- that M'gann is excluded from that. _'As a people, we should strive to remain cultured, and to value our songs and the ability to produce them.'_

"Whites don't have the same talent or capacity for appreciation. Not like the green or red Martians do." M'gann's voice echoes in his ears, pulling him back into the clearing as she curls up tight against his chest. "That was made clear…A lot. We're too violent. Too…Too savage to understand something like that." Her voice is dull, repeating something that he knows has been pressed into her mind way too often. How many times was she told that, before she started to fully believe it?

"M'gann." Speaking keeps his hands from bunching into fists, which he doubts would help in this situation…Although he wouldn't mind having something to punch, just now. "Like I just said…Cadmus made me to be a weapon, remember?" He switches from rubbing her back to running his hand through her hair.

"Just a weapon…But I don't let them define me. You shouldn't let the same thing happen to you, either." When he's done, he also finds himself thinking that she's wrong about not being clever or talented enough for song. She's definitely more eloquent then he his, and probably could have said that better then he could manage.

Though as she relaxes against him, and that knot in her thoughts eases, he decides that he must be decent enough with words.

-o-o-o-

He's not disgusted by her. Isn't offended by her voice, or her presence. She can tell that from the way he holds her head, how he watches her. His eyes are never clouded over when they look eye to eye, which is somehow both painful and heartwarming; something that she didn't know could exist side by side when it came to emotions.

At least until she arrived on Earth. It still amazes her, that he's always known _what_ she is…And that it doesn't change anything between them.

"Thank you," M'gann finds his fingers and squeezes at them as she speaks. His words stay in her head, a little louder right now then those memories of Mars…Which she finds herself grateful for. And ready to focus on them instead of that slightly homesick, slightly bitter feeling in her chest. "For all of that."

"_And you're right; you're not just a weapon."_ She adds mentally, leaning against him so their heads bump together. _"You're a lot…You're so much more then just that."_ She lets a little of that pinched, softening sensation in her heart flood out of her head and into his; how he makes her heart feel light the same way singing or watching the sunrise does. And he soaks it in the same way their clothing absorbs the sunlight.

The sky continues to shift, moving one step closer to blue on every other breath she takes. Watching that color soak into the sky, M'gann is briefly reminded of Megan's eyes; flat and grey blue. And Mars, with the bits of red and orange still sticking to the undersides of the clouds.

Conner's breathing is light, and over that she can hear the beginnings of Happy Harbor stirring; a few cars down below them, starting to move through the city. The chirps of birds and seagull cries faintly layered over that, and closer to them. It's a different sound from Mars. And as the morning stretches on, a different sight as well; Conner shifts a little beside her, his hand trailing along her side as he takes another breath, and gives her a light, mental nudge. His thoughts aren't the same as what she gets on Mars, either; a little more wobbly and unsure, without the usual strength and certainty she could hear in the rest of her family.

There's also a softness to them that she could never find on Mars, though. He only manages two words, but there's an amazing amount of warmth to it. The same feel as his arms wrapped around her, as they curl up underneath her cloak.

"_Keep going?"_

She gets the idea from that, and as she nods she also hums another line of song, which he picks up on after a few notes. No words this time from either of them; just a low thrum in their throats as the sunrise finishes. M'gann's last thought, as she drifts into a calm place with his voice humming in her head and bones, is how much better this is then just singing or watching the sunrise alone, either on Mars or on Earth.


End file.
